Trip Sparks Bedouin Bond

Weaving continues to play an important role in passing on traditional Bedouin culture to younger generations who are now increasingly influenced by urban culture.

Dusk had just settled when my companion Khadija and I arrived in the traditional village of St. Katherine in the Sinai. The evening atmosphere was still yet pulsating with energy. Built near Mt. Sinai (Jabal Musa) and Mt. St. Katherine, at first glance the village appears as if it is a part of the mountains themselves. The entire area is a protected site and carefully preserved. All the houses in the village are made from the same grey stone. They are identical in style and simple in structure. This and other villages actually resemble the informal settlements of South Africa. But there is a very conspicuous strangeness to them: They all have satellite dishes decorating their rooftops.

Yes, television has taken over the Bedouins' lives. The traditional family time structure has changed; many Bedouins spend hours in front of the screen. Arabic soap operas entrance them with their melodramatic plots. And, of course, pop culture has influenced the youth, with many of the young men wearing designer duds. The women, however, still maintain their traditional dress.

When we reached the home of our hosts, Fatima and Ai'd, all my expectations of a traditional Bedouin home were dashed. It reminded me of any ordinary home. But then, what is a traditional Bedouin home? Is it a tent pitched in a desert? The lounge was furnished simply, but stylishly, with maroon floor pillows and back rests. Bolster cushions provided arm rests. A 29-inch flat screen TV set in an intricately carved wooden television cabinet completed the picture.

The lounge led into a large room, which was sparsely decorated with rugs and wall-hangings. The kitchen and bathroom were spacious and tiled. However, the bathroom had a squat toilet (I hadn't seen that in a while) and the traditional Egyptian shower, a showerhead attached to the wall.

A St. Katherine area Bedouin man bakes traditional flat bread.

Khadija and I were given Ai'd's and Fatima's bedroom, luxuriously furnished with a modern bedroom suite.

When Ai'd arrived home, once more I realized how stereotypical my images of Bedouins were. Ai'd reminded me of a typical Indian male in his mannerisms. And if I was expecting a solitary air, I instead found someone who was warm and friendly. He told us that his house was our house, and we should feel at home. The Bedouin men build their own houses, and Ai'd was visibly proud of his handiwork.

The Bedouins of St. Katherine are mountain people. Ai'd has been going into the mountains since the age of 13 to tend his family's goats and sheep. Now, with a wife and baby, he leaves it to his brother Muhammad. Ai'd tells us the mountains are not easy to be in, and to ease the slow passing of time, many lose themselves in the hallucinatory heaven of hashish.

St. Katherine being a tourist town, most of the men earn their living by transporting tourists to the monastery or as tour guides. There are several small privately-owned hotel camps, curio shops, and a restaurant that serves one standard meal — chicken, rice, and vegetables. The women make handbags to sell, hand sewing on every bead.

In the village we were greeted by almost every person we passed. "Sonja! Marhaba!" This was Khadija's fifth visit to St. Katherine and she was well remembered. They all recalled the exact dates of Khadija's previous trips and her journey to Islam. And that's what I was to soon discover about the Bedouins and Egyptians — their amazing memory.

Egyptians rarely forget a face or a name. However, most don't know that South Africa is a country; they often ask where in the south of Africa I am from. But the Bedouins awed me with their knowledge. All the men speak fluent English, their only exposure to the language being the tourists. They are well versed in current affairs and debate with a sharp wit. When we met Muhammad, who stays for months in the mountains, I was humbled by his desire to learn.

Muhammad was proud of his linguistic improvement since last meeting Khadija and he showed us why. Here in the mountains, he sits with a dictionary and books, and teaches himself English. He is a diligent student and strives to perfect himself. His friend Sa`eed is in his mid-50s. Sa`eed greatly admires Nelson Mandela, wants to visit the Great Hole in Kimberly, is fascinated by crocodiles, and educated us on geology. A man with an entrepreneur's spirit, Sa`eed aspires to set up an Internet cafe in the mountains.

Lying at the foothills of  Mt. Sinai, where Prophet Moses is believed to have received the Ten Commandments, St. Katherine's Monastery is one of the oldest monasteries in the world, having begun as a simple chapel in 330 CE.

Sa`eed loves South Africa and would love to start a business there. So he proposed marriage to me. He told me that he would provide for me and that we would alternate living one year in Sinai and one year in South Africa. I politely declined.

Muhammad questions Khadija on her spiritual strength and tells us he has changed his life, that he has stopped smoking hashish and now performs salah punctually. He no longer dreads making wudu' with freezing water for Fajr, and has found his contentment.

Women are respected in the Sinai and one doesn't have any fears at all. On the night we headed into the mountains, we wanted to avoid the tourists, and we so set out for Mt. Sinai at 9:30. We were the only people on the mountain and reverently immersed ourselves in the star-studded walk. When we reached the mountain hut/coffee shop belonging to Muhammad, we found him asleep. We were almost near the top, and a fierce wind was blowing.

When we reached the last base point, we deliberated on whether to wake the man who rents out blankets and mattresses. Not a soul stirred, but we knew we couldn't go up without blankets, as we risked freezing. It was only midnight; there was still a 4-hour wait till the break of dawn. Thankfully, the owner was awake, heard us talking, and came out to us.

We were offered tea and a place to rest. He and his companions would not hear of us going up before sunrise. Their hut was subdivided, and so he laid mattresses and blankets on the floor for us, and we fell into a restless sleep. It was bitterly cold, and the mattress was an unworthy shield against the hard floor. But we knew we were safe.

At four in the morning, the tourists started arriving. Warmly wrapped in blankets, we took in the magnificent sunrise and contemplated how Prophet Moses (peace be upon him) stayed there for 40 days. The guides prayed Fajr salah in the small mosque on the mountaintop. We laid down our blankets and, drowning out the singing of hymns in the background, we prostrated before God.

When we started our descent, our overnight hosts gave us tourist mementoes as gifts and refused to accept payment for any of their services, including accommodation, blankets, and tea. When Khadija and I mentioned our wish to own a retreat in the mountains, we were graciously offered their home at any time we wished.

The mountain communication system beats its own well-established rhythm, and the next day Ai'd was well aware of whom we had spoken to, when we had stopped, etc. Every person in the village knew we were staying at his house, and so each day our every movement was relayed to him.

As we prepared to leave, we knew that we would return, in sha' Allah. And we knew that even if we were to return years later, the Bedouins would not forget us. We would be welcomed as family, for a bond was created between us. And in the hearts of the Bedouin, we are irrevocably linked.

Bibi Ayesha Wadvalla is a South African freelance writer and radio presenter. You can contact her at artculture@iolteam.com.